


The Day He Said Yes

by Elsey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hell, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1392733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsey/pseuds/Elsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After thirty years of torture, Dean finally caves, unable to stand the pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Day He Said Yes

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading up on Vikings recently, giving me a prompt for how I envisioned Dean's last torture session in Hell.

Dean's eyes flashed open, mouth already screwed up in horror, head twisting violently from side to side, massive hooks ripping under his collarbones and back out through his chest. There always seemed to be blood swelling in his mouth, rising like bile. Dean's body screamed and he watched as his left foot grew back from the ragged stump it had been before. Yesterday's torture had been the worst so far, but every day for the past thirty years seemed to slowly get worse and worse. There were no good days. A violent scream of agony ripped from Dean's core as the jagged hooks that pierced him grew red hot. A dark figure appeared beside him.

"Has it been a week already, Alistair?" Dean spat, blood flicking from his mouth before there was none left to spit; he was fully healed, ready to begin a new day.

"Why yes, how intuitive of you, dear Dean. Are we ready to get off of these hooks yet?" Alistair asked, a dark smile twisting his features.

"Never," Dean growled. Alistair's grin wavered slightly before returning.

"No matter, Dean, we have something very special for you today." With a flick of his hand, the sharpened hooks were violently ripped from Dean, a choked scream rising from his mouth as the majority of the flesh went with them. His eyes were sunken, the eyes of a broken man.

"That all you got, fuckface?"

"You know it isn't, Dean." Alistair snapped his fingers and a human man grabbed Dean, wrenching him upright. Dean felt tears burning in the corner of his eyes.

"Sammy?" he gasped. Sam's eyes flickered from demon black to human.

"Hello Dean."

" _No!_ " Dean screamed, anger filling his entire being. Alistair was gone.

"Didn't think we'd be this creative, huh Winchester?" the demon asked him, licking his lips. Before he could answer, Sam was ripping his arms behind his back, binding them with barbed wire. Dean hissed as it tore his wrists, blood slowly dripping to the floor. Sam grabbed a large hook and attached it to the barbed wire. "This is really gonna hurt."

Dean saw him yank on a chain, hearing the crack and _pop_ of his shoulders before the pain came. It hit like an ocean wave. Dean vomited down the front of his bare chest, legs kicking out from under him, vision blackening as he screamed and screamed and screamed. His shoulders were on fire, dislocated and hung above his head, shattered bones slicing through muscles as he hung, swaying slowly. Dean's throat was hoarse, his entire world screaming _pain_.

"Had enough?" Sam asked. Dean screamed in response. The pain was sheer agony, but it wasn't the worst thing they had done. Dean wailed as he felt the barbed wire slowly scraping his flesh and veins away, moving its way to the bone. How he could feel it when it shoulders were dislocated, Dean didn't know. He had a split second to wonder before a sharpened blade punctured his back. Dean howled, arching his back and letting loose a string of curses. A second slit.

"Not- your- fucking- best," he gasped, eyes bugging out. Sam chuckled, ripping one cut wide open, then the other. The pain was horrifying; Dean could feel Sam's hands moving inside of the torn shreds. He traced the length of one rib before grabbing it, ripping it clean out of Dean's body. Dean writhed, non human noises escaping his blood filled mouth. Another rib; another, another. Dean wailed, twisting and ripping his naked body, blood spilling from his shoulders. Sam carefully reached inside the newly created holes in Dean and grabbed a hold of both of his lungs, violently pulling. Dean's scream was cut off, lungs unattached and hanging from the slits in his back.

Sam brought forward a new knife, cutting into the pink flesh that was Dean's lungs and chuckling with delight. Dean's body convulsed, his eyes rolling into his head, foam and blood pooling from his mouth.

"Had enough?" Alistair asked, appearing before Dean. Sam was gone. Alistair observed Dean's ripped and broken body with a nod. "We haven't pulled that one out in centuries." A smile danced across the demon's lips. Dean's mouth moved, jaw hanging loosely. "What's that? I can't hear you?" Alistair snapped his fingers, and a choking Dean coughed, finding his voice. He looked around, tears hot on his cheeks, searching for Sam. He was tired. God was he tired. His head was swimming, pain filling everything, every thought. He looked at Alistair a broken man.

"Let me down. I'll do it." Alistair clapped his hands together, releasing Dean. His beaten body crumpled to the ground at the sound. Alistair snapped his fingers and Dean was whole, slowly standing. He was wearing some kind of hellish uniform, a blade in his hand. Alistair was gone.

Dean turned to find a woman screaming behind him, hooks through her shoulders. His face was a stone mask as he advanced, eyes dead and blade scraping on the ground.


End file.
